When Chen Ye dropped his question, most of the survivors ignored it, too consumed by their own terror. But Zhou Xiaoxiao instinctively bristled.

“That girl is just… just…” he stammered, the rebuttal dying on his lips.

He wanted to argue. He needed to argue. But as he rifled through his memory, a cold realization struck him: he couldn’t name her. He couldn’t recall a single interaction.

In fact, he had never seen her before today.

The color drained from the faces of those nearby as the implication sank in.

“How can you be sure you haven’t seen her?” Zhou Xiaoxiao persisted, his neck stiff with stubborn denial. “Her hair was too long, it covered her face! Maybe she just kept to herself!”

But even as he spoke, his voice grew smaller, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the Spectral Domain.

Chen Ye sneered, his gaze fixed on the spot where the weeping girl had vanished. “This is Longevity Village,” he said slowly, each word heavy. “A stranger appears in a Forbidden Zone, claims she’s with us, and then disappears. You really don’t think that’s a problem?”

Zhou Xiaoxiao opened his mouth to argue again, but Zhou Lan grabbed his arm, her grip tight. “Xiaoxiao! Enough.”

Chen Ye glanced indifferently at the “boy.” Or rather, the girl. Zhou Xiaoxiao was clearly female, cross-dressing to survive in the convoy. Chen Ye had known from the start but hadn’t bothered to expose her. His tolerance wasn’t born of kindness; in this world, people were resources. If danger came, she would make a fine meat shield.

“Let’s move,” Nana said, her hand tight on her sword hilt. Her eyes darted around the shadows like a cornered cat. “We need to gather supplies and leave before 4 PM.”

Suppressing their unease, the group pressed on toward the village center.

From the outskirts, the Great Willow had looked large. up close, it was a titan. Its trunk was so massive it would take three people linking arms to encircle it. Even before the apocalypse, such a tree would have been a rare wonder.

“Is this tree about to become a spirit?” a survivor whispered, awe warring with fear.

“It’s huge… I’ve never seen anything like it. My god.”

“If we could sell this timber, we’d be rich.”

“It’s the apocalypse, you idiot. Who buys trees?”

The nervous chatter died down as they rounded the final corner. Ahead lay the village square, dominated by the Great Willow and the small structure nestled beneath it: the Great Willow Mini-Mart.

Iron Lion took the lead, rounding the corner first.

And then he froze.

The giant stood like a statue, his massive back rigid.

Nana’s eyes narrowed. “Iron Lion? What is it?”

The Titan swallowed hard, the sound audible in the silence. “Nana… come here. You need to see this.”

The young Sword Immortal quickened her pace, stepping up beside him.

Chen Ye watched her reaction closely. The moment Nana saw the full scope of the tree, she stiffened. A tremor ran through her body, a visible shudder of pure, primal revulsion.

A bad premonition coiled in Chen Ye’s gut. Nana was the strongest fighter they had. If something terrified her this badly…

He raised his Hand Crossbow, slowing his approach. Behind him, the survivors caught the mood, their footsteps faltering.

“Iron Lion, Nana,” Chen Ye called out softly. “What do you see?”

Nana turned her head. Her pupils were dilated to the point of blackness, her face a mask of horror. “Chen Ye… look.”

Chen Ye frowned. They weren’t attacked. There was no blood.

He crept forward, rounding the corner slowly. The view opened up.

Under the dim, filtered sky of the Spectral Domain, the sun seemed light-years away. The village square was vast, but the Great Willow dominated everything, its canopy blotting out the sky.

Countless green tendrils hung down like silk tassels, swaying gently in a breeze that shouldn’t exist. In a different world, on a sunny afternoon, this would have been a scene of breathtaking beauty.

If not for the fruit.

Hanging from the end of every green branch was a corpse.

Hundreds of them. Men, women, children, the elderly. They hung suspended in the air, dense and heavy, swaying silently. Their faces were grey, their eyes open or shut, preserved in a mockery of peace.

There were at least two hundred of them. The entire population of Longevity Village, harvested and displayed.

Chen Ye understood why Iron Lion and Nana had frozen. His own jaw went slack, his throat clicking dry as he tried to swallow. His eyes vibrated, unable to process the scale of the horror. This wasn’t a movie. This was a slaughterhouse artistically arranged.

What is this thing? Why hang them like wind chimes?

A low, stifled sob broke the silence.

Chen Ye turned stiffly. Zhou Lan and Zhou Xiaoxiao were clutching their mouths, tears streaming down their faces, terrified that a sound might wake the tree. Behind them, the other survivors stared with eyes so wide they looked ready to burst.

Chen Ye bit down on his cigarette filter until it creaked. The tiny ember was the only warmth in this cold hell.

“Don’t look,” he rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. “Supplies. Focus on the supplies.”

Beneath the canopy of corpses stood a small, flat-roofed bungalow. A wooden sign leaned against it: Great Willow Mini-Mart. The door was ajar, revealing the faint glint of glass counters inside.

“Careful,” Chen Ye whispered. “Don’t disturb them.”

Iron Lion moved first, his massive frame hunched as he tiptoed toward the shop, trying not to brush against the hanging dead. Nana followed, silent as a shadow. Chen Ye brought up the rear, crossbow raised, the unsmoked cigarette still clenched in his teeth.

The survivors trailed behind, their faces pale, moving like ghosts to avoid the swaying feet of the villagers above.

They slipped into the mini-mart.

Iron Lion and Nana clicked on their flashlights, beams cutting through the dusty gloom.

It was a typical village store, surprisingly well-stocked. A glass counter near the entrance, rows of shelves behind it packed with cigarettes and liquor. To the right, aisles of food and daily necessities.

For a village store, it was a goldmine.

The fear in the survivors’ eyes was instantly replaced by greedy glints. Even the old woman—the grandmother of the Brat—peered out from the back, her legs suddenly strong, her vision sharp. She had followed silently, betting on the Beyonders’ strength, and now she saw her payout.

Outside, a sudden gust of wind swept through the square.

Above the shop, the branches swayed, and the corpses danced, their silent rhythm picking up speed.